


Fragility

by ghani



Series: Citrus and Honey [2]
Category: Loki-Fandom, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies), Thor (Movies) RPF
Genre: Affection, Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Autoerotic Asphyxiation, Character Study, Choking, Curiousity, Fingering, Implied Violence, Loki Can't Help Himself, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, Toys, Violence, implied blood fetish, loki's the shit, tom has balls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-01
Updated: 2014-05-01
Packaged: 2018-01-21 11:46:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1549424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghani/pseuds/ghani
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Research, he said. It would be fun, he said. A lil bit more crack!fic, more naked Loki, more naked Tom, and the newsflash that Loki really can be an asshole. Set slightly after Citrus and Honey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fragility

There was thunder, somewhere. The thought registered with a touch more alarm than thunder might have registered otherwise and Tom frowned muzzily on why that might be. It was a minute or so before he remembered that right, Loki. Thor. Thunder bad. Loki good. Except not good, except... Tom twisted slightly and groaned, another minute passing before he realized that there wasn't thunder, it was his pulse roaring in his ears and he was panting so hard he might choke, and there was a hand lazily stroking over his lower back. There was a word for this feeling, maybe a phrase, and after a moment or two of straining it came to him. Fucked out. Well and truly, thoroughly fucked out. Tom stretched again, movements hampered by that powerful hand on his back and he let out a soft, whimpery little sound of distress. "I think the last time I came that hard I was fourteen," he choked out to nobody in particular and squirmed again.

"Stay still, Thomas. You seemed to lose consciousness." He blinked, hearing that rich, husky tone in Loki's voice that made his stomach drop and little flutters climb up his sternum. The mattress moved, and there was a rush of running water and rustle of heavy fabric before Loki returned with a wet cloth, a dry towel, and something green was hanging over his arm. "I told you..." That voice warned and really, it sounded nothing like the godling's usual speaking voice now that it was absent its slick half truths and delicate turns of phrase. Tom sighed, then whined when the wet cloth was pressed to his nose and he realized it had started bleeding. Again. The dry towel was slid underneath his head and Tom realized that this way, he wouldn't have to rouse to keep the wet cloth against his nose.

"...Your fault," Tom grumbled hoarsely, his own voice dry and cracking and not at all sexy.

"Indeed it is," Loki agreed amiably, "Now silence-"

"You told me to lay still, not shut up," Tom groused, forgetting anything remotely resembling consequences for snapping at his often-volatile lover, (as indeed, that had started their night out) but there was no reply. The actor half-expected the somewhat-familiar pungent odor of ozone filling the room to tell him Loki had left, but instead there was a heavy, almost silken warmth that covered him and after blinking a few times, Tom realized the sprawl of hunter green over Loki's arm was his cape, and now instead of hanging off Loki’s arm it was tucked around his human body. Loki was significantly taller than he was, and the fabric spilled and pooled about his own lanky, slim frame.

"Dun wanna bleed on your cape.." He started, and Loki chuckled.

"Plenty of blood has been spilled on my garments, Thomas. Now shut up."

Tom smiled soundlessly absently noticing that the mention of that simply didn’t unsettle him the way it used to, and reached up one shaky hand to try touch the dark locks that were now so mussed. When he couldn't get that far (even though he belatedly realized Loki was sprawled next to him on the bed), to his great surprise Loki bent his head just low enough so Tom could reach. He lifted the same hand and let it slide through the hair thick and dark as an inkwell, so dark he almost expected his fingers to come away stained.

"You sad little mortals and your lack of energy reserves..." Loki crooned as he pressed a kiss down Tom's neck, then sucked a deep purple bruise just above his shoulderblade.

"Nnh... I could go get a redbull," Tom grumbled, "But I'm not so fond of... that. Tea?" he sighed and closed his eyes, expecting Loki to stalk off but to his surprise, the weight on the bed beside him didn't shift. When nothing moved for awhile, he slit open one eye to find Loki just... staring at him. Staring, eyebrow arched and without the slightest hint of embarrassment at being caught staring. "Take a picture, it'll last longer," Tom grumbled, but he made no move to more fully cover up as Loki's gaze swept slowly over his skin. It was covered in bites and bruises, including a few spots where Loki's teeth had broken through, and blood on his face from where Loki had made his nose bleed again by shoving his face back into the blankets. Underneath the heavy fabric of his cape, Tom was slowly becoming aware of the come drying on his stomach and thighs, the sticky mess making his skin itch and twitch.

Loki smiled, softly to himself, and glanced back up to meet his eyes. "You feel no shame?" He remarked.

Tom shook his head, a weak shrug lifting his shoulders imperceptibly. "Why would I? You didn't force me. I did not refuse. I do not feel any... guilt or self-loathing or fear or... anything that would come even in the vicinity of shame," Tom's eyes moved boldly back down Loki's body, knowing full well any marks he left there would rapidly heal.

"You have no... emotional... response to laying with the mortal enemy of-" Loki broke off as Tom rolled his eyes, then narrowed his own as his nostrils flared in disgust and irritation. "I would think you would have some kind of... moral quandary, given your own nature, at having given yourself so freely to me." The godling finally finished, watching Tom with a peculiar kind of carelessness that Tom had come to associate with feeling like there were thirty pairs of eyes on the back of his head and inside his skull.

"Moral quandary? What do you take me for, your Captain Rogers in the movie?" Tom rolled his eyes. "You still don't fully understand, do you," Tom murmured, lips twitching into a smile that was as faint as his shrug. Loki's eyebrows sharply arched again and Tom half-lifted a hand to try soothe him before he could go off on something as Tom tried to gather his brain back together enough to explain. "I want to understand you. We talked about this. I want to understand, I want to figure out what... works. What doesn't. How it works. How it..." Flustered and too fucked out to think, Tom let out a groan and just closed his eyes with a dismissive wave so like Loki that even Loki himself let out the barest of smiles before stalking, hawk-like, over Tom's form on the bed.

"Thomas," He murmured, "Oh, Thomas, you precious, stupid thing-" Tom opened one eye, his gaze flat at the insult and Loki just chuckled, all traces of power gone and for the moment, he felt... remarkably human. Tom knew better, though, and despite a whine at losing the warmth, he didn't otherwise protest as Loki moved the cape to roll him on his back and settle astride his hips. Loki's hands swept up his chest, sliding through the sticky mess on his stomach before he bent to suck at his throat. Again, Tom just groaned and let the warmth seep through him again, enjoying each touch.

"You are so... delicate," Loki remarked, and Tom just smiled, enjoying the touch since it was so uncharacteristically gentle. Loki was not only black and white, but all shades of grey in how he carried himself. How he touched Tom. How he spoke of himself whether it was such seething self-loathing that Tom couldn't believe he didn't seem to notice, to the grand, pompous nature (really, "burdened with glorious purpose?" Who says that shit?) of some of his statements.  
Yet there was black, and there was white and sometimes, his inability to see those he loathed or loved as anything but one or the other baffled Tom. Tom glanced back up; at Loki, smiling quietly,

“I am mortal, not delicate,” He corrected, and Loki rolled his eyes as his fingers pinched down on a nipple, hard. “There's a difference," Tom insisted with a soft gasp, the kisses down his neck getting distracting. "To you mortals are delicate, therefore I am... delicate... though... hey, Ironman isn't all that-" Tom trailed off as those kisses stopped, and Loki was looking down at him with this quiet, long suffering expression that while obviously put-upon, Tom had learned meant he was about two sentences away from getting smacked. Hard. Sometimes hard enough to bleed, though it was by some miracle that Loki had never broken his nose and this, this was how this evening started.

Tom had been minding his own business, almost settling in to bed after a drink and putting his feet up and Loki had walked in the room, grabbed him by the hips and started to propel him towards the bed. Tom, still irritated about how he'd been left the last time had twisted around and out of Loki's grip, snapping a sharp “ _Excuse me?_ ”

Loki looked shocked, and there was a faint sound of the air dragging between his teeth before Tom felt his hand strike his face hard enough to make his eyes water and his ears ring.  “ _Excuse you? There are no excuses for you_.” The words were as soft as the air between his teeth and every bit as menacing.

" _You’re such a bastard_ ," Tom had exclaimed, hands going up to check to see if his nose was as broken as it felt.

“ _You will not deny me, mortal, you will not-_ " Tom was surprised to see Loki stop, and felt a cool trickle by his lip. He looked at his hands in time to see a brilliant smear of blood and he stalked off to the bathroom to grab a box of tissues and lean over the sink as his nose continued to bleed. Loki followed, obviously curious at the blood and if Tom didn't know better, concerned because if Tom didn’t miss his guess, Loki hadn't intended to make him bleed. Probably. Just... show him his place which, Loki had often used sex for that but never… violence. Not with him. Tom was shocked out of his irritation when Loki reached out, pulled his head up and leaned in to slowly, ferally lick the blood off his top lip like a cat.  


" _...You're a bit of a freak,_ " Tom commented cautiously and Loki arched an eyebrow as he took the tissues and held them to Tom's nose like he was a small child.

" _I left you as I wished to leave you,_ " Loki replied calmly, and Tom started to attempt to reply something about how that didn’t make him any less of an asshole for it but there was a buzzing of that dark power around him, like watching a movie in 3D without the glasses and there was this eye-wrenching duplicity to everything Loki did, a second outline of shadow that if he looked too hard out made his head hurt and his stomach turn. It had never been so vivid before and Tom closed his eyes as a wave of nausea swept over him. " _Don't look too hard,_ " Loki breathed in his ear, pressing him into his own body with the hand still holding the tissues to Tom's nose at his shoulder. " _Don't look too close. Mortal eyes are not meant to see such things._ " Tom focused on the warmth the norse god seemed to generate, and the strong hand on his back and finally relaxed slightly. " _Now... there we go_ ," Loki stepped back and gestured towards the sink. " _Wash your face, I will be waiting_." And with that, swept out of the room with his cape whipping around the doorknob and jerking the door open with the pull of the heavy fabric as Loki brushed by. When Tom returned to his bedroom, Loki was sprawled comfortably on the bed wearing nothing at all, all white silk skin and Tom just shook his head, his nose aching with the bruising that was forming.

"You're a right bastard, I hope you know that," he said conversationally, "And no stuffing my face down in a pillow or the bed this time, it'll start bleeding again." Loki rolled his eyes, and Tom just shook his head as he stripped down and climbed onto the bed.

  
" _What if I just wanted to talk?_ " Loki asked, a coy, sly look on his face, and Tom just stared, then started to laugh and Loki actually managed to look faintly injured. Tom pressed a kiss to Loki's hip, then up his body, over his chest and sucking briefly on a nipple before stretching up to kiss him soundly, thoroughly on the mouth. There was that... taste, again, the one that Loki didn't always conceal and Tom plundered his mouth, trying to pinpoint what made him think death til suddenly he realized he was on his back and Loki's hand was on his throat, pinning him with his weight. Tom's breath hissed in his throat and a spot or two floated before his eyes as his body arched to try dislodge Loki from choking him to death. Then suddenly there was a rush of air again, and Tom shuddered, gasping with one hand on his neck and a cough pushing it's way from his throat. There was no time, though, as Loki was biting his nipples and rocking down over his dick with his own hips til they were grinding together and Tom could only mewl and gasp through a slightly sore throat.

" _Wh-what was-_ " Tom cried out and squirmed as he felt one of Loki's fingers work its way into him. Sometimes there was such minimal foreplay that Tom couldn't keep up. The burn, the stretch, the flash of whitehot pleasure as his finger crooked and Tom mewled a little as his body gave in and rocked down on that finger. " _You are so damned beautiful,_ " Tom managed, and then Loki's hand was on his throat again. There was no pressure, this time, and Tom could feel his gaze hot and hard over his body. Tom had fuzz on his chest and freckles smattering over his skin where Loki was smooth and perfectly pale, almost reptilian by comparison but oh, god that smile, when Loki really smiled, Tom felt something deep in his gut wrench and burn and his heart seemed far too large to fit in his chest, much less have room for his lungs and oh, oh no. Tom managed to escape going further down that line of thought because Loki, every bit unashamed with two fingers in his body, had just wrapped his mouth around his dick and swallowed him down so thoroughly Tom was pretty sure he nearly sprained something in his back trying to avoid jerking up and fucking his throat.

Tom opened his eyes and realized he’d half-dozed into the memory, their night having started so badly and yet… Loki hadn’t stopped fucking him, had used his body again and again and Tom was starting to flag. The last time Loki had grabbed his hips and Tom felt a cock ring (he had no idea where it had come from) fasten about his dick, a protest forming on his lips as Tom hadn’t been allowed to come the two rounds before and he was starting to shake and mewl with need. His body was pushed deep into the blankets, his cries ringing in his ears til he felt that cock ring come off and he arched, slamming back on Loki’s dick as he spilled into the blankets below himself. He never felt Loki come, never heard the soft hiss of pleasure or the power that fluctuated around them as the godling fought to keep control of the magic that seethed under his skin. It wasn’t until he thought he heard thunder in his ears that he really started to fit back together in his own head, and Tom was too overwhelmed to think through what had just happened.  

Suddenly Tom squeaked as Loki pulled him tight into his chest and began nibbling affectionately at the back of his neck. Or, well, sort of affectionately because Tom wasn’t so sure that the occasional bloody sting of teeth breaking skin could be called affectionate. For Loki, however, things were defined just a little differently. As always. Finally Loki got up and settled on the edge of the bed, stretching luxuriously as Tom watched, weakly reaching up to run his fingers over his sore nose again.

“You’re a bastard,” Tom mumbled sleepily, and somewhere near his feet Loki laughed.

“You’ll heal.”  
  
“Eventually. If I have two black eyes tomorrow, you bet your lily white ass you’re not getting any the next time you show up.” There was a strained enough silence that Tom opened his eyes and fuzzily focused on Loki’s face.

“Because denying me what I came here for worked so very well three hours ago, human.”  
  
“You can’t just beat people for sex, Loki, that’s, that’s…” Tom trailed off, watching Loki’s eyebrows lift. “Seriously, man you can’t do that. We have an agreement that works for us but if I am forced to add an eleventh rule that says no hitting to get what you want, I’m going to seriously reconsider our entire arrangement.”  


There was a moment of strained silence, then a soft chuff of laughter from Loki, and he shook his head. “Asgard thinks it is so, very very civilized,” he remarked by way of bare explanation, and then pulled Tom’s head back with one hand in his hair, lifting his own to bite at the side of his neck. “When do you begin filming?”

Tom shivered and closed his eyes, distracted entirely by the teeth scraping over the sensitive skin. “Three weeks time,” He replied softly, conscious of that hand still gripping his hair. “You are truly never through, are you?” Tom added a moment later, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth.

“With you? No,” Loki replied. “Three weeks time. Very well then. I shall have to visit more often if your impersonation of me is to be thoroughly convincing.” There was amusement in that voice, but Tom frowned to himself for several long minutes.  
  
“I don’t think it is meant to be convincing,” He ventured cautiously after a time, “It is meant to entertain… humans. Do you remember your reaction to the script, Loki? How childish and self-absorbed and foolish their portrayal of you seemed? That is their… script and you are… both like and utterly unlike that script.” Tom stopped, holding his breath a little to hear-or perhaps feel-Loki’s reaction. There was silence for a time, just the occasional absent lick or resettling of fingers in his hair, but eventually Loki spoke.

“Well go on, mortal.”  
  
“...that was about it,” Tom admitted, “I’m just saying I’m not sure that they want the true you on the screen. On screen you are… a cartoon of yourself. Bordering on melodramatic and buffoonish as opposed to…” Tom gestured vaguely towards Loki’s body. “This.”

“This.” Loki laughed, shaking his head and sweeping Tom more firmly into his chest, heat radiating off of him and sometimes, when Tom couldn’t quite see him, those flickers appeared on the edge of his vision and there seemed far more of Loki than there physically, visibly actually was. He could only imagine what it felt like being with Thor, all blonde and muscled and hulking compared to the infinitely delicate, graceful little brother. If Thor really did look like that. “Hey-” He broke off because as he’d twisted in Loki’s arms, the Asgardian had wrapped a hand over his mouth to shut him up.

“I tire of your questions tonight, Thomas. Rest.” Loki murmured and for a quiet, still moment as he felt that heavy green cape settled over their bodies, Tom wondered if maybe, just maybe he was lonely.

 


End file.
